


Just Checking In

by she_who_the_river_could_not_hold



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, One Shot, Takes place in Season One, which means witty banter and weird tension bellarke!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 17:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17922971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/she_who_the_river_could_not_hold/pseuds/she_who_the_river_could_not_hold
Summary: The delinquents are getting back into routine after multiple days of heavy rain. Bellamy's gone out with a hunting party and Clarke can't help but notice that he's not back when he said he would be. But then once he does, it looks like he might need some medical attention from her.orjust a small missing moment from season one because I miss those vibes





	Just Checking In

**Author's Note:**

> I've been trying to do some small writing exercises as I get back into fic writing after a bit of a break! I also realized that I've never written early canon Bellarke, especially season one, which seems like a crime as a Bellarke writer?? From there, this little one shot was born. No concrete timeline here, just some time in first season while they're prepping the drop ship to withstand the grounders. Enjoy!!

The camp is bustling this evening. Heavy rainfall had put a damper on all of them, making it harder to go out and release their anxious energy. But it had also put their minds at ease about the grounders. Finally though the sun had broken through, warming the ground and slowly drying everything. The smell of the soil and air right after a storm had been unexpected, startling them all by the freshness. That something like that could exist. Just another small wonder of being down here. 

 

It meant that they’d immediately launched back into working on the wall around the camp – though spirits seemed higher than normal even with all of the work.

 

Clarke let out a long exhale as she observed the rest of the delinquents. A gentle breeze blew tangled blonde curls around her cheeks and she distractedly pulled at them. She couldn’t remember the last time she had brushed her hair, but it wasn’t even close to being a priority anymore. It was so much easier to just throw it back in a messy braid or bun. Anything to help her stay focused on whatever was going on at the time. There was always something.

 

But the break with the heavy storms seemed to have alleviated the majority of their troubles. Fear about the grounders had dissipated for now, and the time spent hunkered down had helped her tackle the variety of injuries and illnesses that had been plaguing a handful of the group. 

 

It had been nice to return back to normal.

 

When had this all become normal? Clarke wasn’t so sure.

 

Life on Earth hadn’t been anything like she could have ever hoped for, yet her new daily routine had wormed its way into her heart and she can’t help but admit that besides the threat of being killed, she sort of liked it down here. Here, Clarke felt like she actually belonged for once. She had a purpose and could do something for people. Sure, not everyone was thrilled about her helping lead. And part of her couldn’t blame them. Her medical background was winning people over though, as much as it seemed to pain people. It turned out that on the ground, keeping calm was a more than useful skill. Plus, she had Bellamy on her side to help lead which seemed to have helped her public image – no matter what Finn said. 

 

Speaking of Bellamy, he and the hunting party should have been back by now.  _ Or around now, not that Clarke was paying attention to that _ .

 

It was just that they needed to talk about what they were going to do now that the weather had lifted. And he had mentioned it wouldn’t be a long hunting trip, just something to kick-start their food supply after not going on a hunt in a while. 

 

Clearly they’d become caught up in it all.

 

_ Humidity cloaked the air and pressed down on them, a trickle of sweat rolling down her back. They must be heading into the depths of summer here.  _

 

It was no matter where they were though. She had a couple last people she needed to set with splints; they would have to take precedence until the group returned to camp. The to-do list that was constantly running through her mind didn’t have room for needlessly worrying about people that were more than capable of taking care of themselves.

 

She began to make her way back into the dropship, twisting her hair back up in a tighter bun as she did. Her progress was brief though as a shout broke her thoughts. Turning back, she spotted the return of the hunting party. Between them, they were lugging some type of giant boar or similar animal. There were whoops and hollers as they were swarmed by fellow teens, work long-forgotten with the arrival of future food. 

 

Her focus on the food was then quickly distracted by the two people bringing up the rear of the hunting party.

 

Bellamy was leaning against Miller, his arm slung over his shoulders and his step staggered awkwardly with him. She immediately zeroed in on his other hand though. The one that was clutching at his side as blood dripped down from the increasingly growing stain on his shirt. A dark red splashed with brighter highlights against the faded tan. 

 

A sense of nausea clenched in her stomach.

 

Fighting the instincts to run to him, Clarke hovered at the entrance to the drop ship. The buzzing from the insects around them seemed louder than before. The two of them made their way to her, Bellamy’s smile almost turning sheepish as he made eye contact with her. 

 

“He’s all yours,” Miller grunted. He gave Bellamy a quick side-eye as he helped push the taller man off of him. Bellamy playfully shoved him before striding up to Clarke. His boots thudded against the metal underneath and his usual cocky smile graced his lips. 

 

“He’s insisting you do a quick check up on me,” he said ruefully.

 

“I can’t imagine why, I mean Jesus Bellamy. You’re bleeding!” Clarke couldn’t help the panic that rose up in her as she stared at the increasingly large amount of blood pooling in the folds of his shirt. 

 

“Relax Princess, don’t worry.” Bellamy let out a bark of a laugh. “It’s not my blood.” 

 

All the same though, he let her push him into the dropship and onto one of crates so that they were at a more level height for her to inspect him. She cautiously lifted the edge of his shirt, Bellamy leaning back some to give her the space to do what she needed to do. His gaze, as sharp as always, seemed to be searching her expression for something but she refused to return his stare. 

 

It turned out that even though he had been being sassy with her, Bellamy was right. It wasn’t his blood. Once she wiped away the smeared blood that had soaked through to his skin, it displayed his side and an absence of any cut or gash. 

 

She was using every ounce of energy to stop her attention from drifting to the sight of his abs as he slowly breathed in and out. 

 

_ She definitely ignored the way his body had slightly flinched as her hands had traced over where she had wiped down the blood. _

 

Clarke was about to lower his shirt again but her attention was caught by a faint, flowering bruise in the middle of his side. It was fresh, purple in color and spreading out just under what appeared to be his ribs. She slowly reached out, her finger tracing it. Yep, definitely right around his ribs. 

 

Looking up at Bellamy, Clarke arched an eyebrow. “Let me guess, you tackled the boar?”

 

He laughed, but gone was his normal bravado and it came out almost nervously. 

 

“That’d make for a better story. It didn’t immediately die and it started to take off, only I was in the way. But at least I stopped it from getting away,” he explained.

 

Clarke hummed as she investigated the bruising more, pressing lightly around it and watching for Bellamy’s reactions to the pressure. Some of them caused him to twitch more than others, only one causing him to swear under his breath. 

 

“Are you having trouble breathing?”   
  


He shifted uncomfortably. Now that she was thinking about it, she wasn’t sure he had ever let her do any type of medical check on him. He was clearly uncomfortable with the attention and she had a feeling from what she had pieced together so far of his past, he wasn’t used to having anyone else take care of him.

 

“I just assumed I was still catching my breath after the impact,” he rumbled. He apparently had no intention of letting her know the pain he was actually in.

 

“No more hunting trips for you. Just stick with supervision for now,” Clarke finally concluded, pulling herself back. “I think your ribs are bruised, but I can’t do anything about it.”

 

Bellamy shook his head as he rose to his feet, “No way. We need as much help as we can get out there right now. I’m fine, we don’t have time for me to ease up.”

 

“Not if it’s only going to make things worse. If you just listen to me and limit yourself to supervising, you might actually heal within three weeks,” Clarke retorted. “Don’t push me on this, or I’ll make you take bed rest and have Miller strap you to one of the cots.”

 

They were standing directly in front of each other, nearly chest to chest. Clarke could feel the heat radiating off of him, the day’s heat seemingly reflecting off of him and it was nearly overwhelming. It was amazing and infuriating how quickly she could feel the shift from panic to annoyance with him. He was being such a stubborn ass and she had no patience for that today, not when she had a feeling they’d have to be amping up their work as prep for an attack any day now. The grounders didn’t waste time, and neither should they. And Bellamy overworking himself, making his bruised ribs even worse, wasn’t an option.

 

He seemed to have realized that he was going to lose this argument, his posture finally relaxing and him letting out a sigh. The slight wince at the end proved her point even more.

 

“Fine, whatever the Princess commands.” There’s no bite behind his words though. He gives her a small, reluctant smile. Her mouth twitches in response.

 

“Am I good to go?” 

 

She realized they’d been standing there for longer than they should have been, a comfortable silence stretching between them. But Bellamy’s question broke it and they were back to being in their respective leadership roles. Clarke cleared her throat and quickly looked away.

 

“You’re good to go. Don’t strain it anymore, stick to just ordering people around. You’re good at that,” she slipped the last comment in, her eyes flitting back to him as she bit back a grin.

 

He laughed at that, a low one that made him only flinch slightly from the bruising.

 

“Not nearly as good as you,” he teased, giving her a wink.

 

Clarke felt a flush threaten to bloom on her cheeks and she hoped the heat would mask it. Bellamy was an expert at getting under her skin. But later, after helping wrap Monroe’s wrist, she peeked outside and happily noted that Bellamy indeed had held himself back from working on the wall himself. Instead he paced between people, barking out some orders. He dutifully kept his arms loose by his sides.

 

This time she allowed herself a full smile before ducking back into the drop ship. 


End file.
